Draya Malfoy

1 - The Girl Who Was Not A Boy

Yours sincerely,

Igor Kakaroff
Headmaster

"I thought we agreed-" Mother said at once.

"We agreed we'd send Draya to the best place-"

"Not overseas!" Mother cried, clutching a hand to her chest. "And what do you mean 'you pulled a few strings'? What's wrong with Hogwarts?"

My father's lip curled. "Dumbledore is what is wrong. He's a bumbling old fool and I won't have any child of mine be influenced by his crackpot beliefs. Draya needs toughening up, not softening down!"

"I'm sorry," Mother implored, vigorously shaking her head, "but I don't agree with Igor's methods. He is an egoistical man who is rumoured to encourage a culture of fear and intimidation amongst the students."

"And you think that's a bad thing?" Father scoffed, picking up his coffee to take a delicate sip.

"Yes!"

"Narcissa, you know Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line about the Dark Arts than Hogwarts does. The students actually learn them, unlike with Dumbledore and his defence rubbish. He allows Mudbloods to attend the school for Merlin's sake. If we ever face another war again, we want Draya to be prepared do we not? And who do you think will be targeted? The Mudblood lovers, that's whom."

Mother closed her eyes, and I could see she was fighting a battle inside her head. "I'm sorry," she said slowly and carefully, "but I just cannot agree to let Draya go so far away. She is still a child - my child."

I glanced nervously at Father whose nostrils were flaring angrily. I wondered how far he would go to put his foot down. I secretly hoped that Mother would win this argument for I was desperate to go to the same school as Pansy.

Pansy and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. She was my only friend, if truth be told. It was a lonely life being an only child growing up in a vast manor. The days went by slowly and my only happiness came from the rare visits by my mother's best friend, Jemima Parkinson. She always brought along her daughter, Pansy, and we would often wander off together and play while the mothers gossiped away the afternoon.

But I knew it was no use putting in my opinion. It wouldn't count. My father doesn't believe that children should have a voice. Seen and not heard, was his motto. Although sometimes I think he'd prefer not to see me either.

So, it was to my great relief when later that day, Mother came up to me smiling and said that Father had agreed I could go to Hogwarts after all.

I hugged her very hard, wanting to tell her how much I loved her. But I did not.

Malfoys did not declare their feelings. They pushed them down and held their heads up high. And they certainly did not cry.

******

"Why can't I get a broomstick?"

"Because first years are not allowed."

"That's a stupid rule."

"I know. And this is precisely why I felt you were better off going to Durmstrang."

I sealed my mouth shut after that. I did not want to give my father any reason to change his mind.

Father then disappeared down somewhere called Knockturn Alley. It looked exciting but Mother forbade me to go with him, so I was forced into having to scavenge for my reading books just like a lowly commoner.

"Robes!" My mother gasped as we stood in the long queue at Flourish and Blotts. "I'd almost clean forgotten that I'd made an appointment in Madam Malkin's for you to be fitted up."